


A Nice Place to Visit

by thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent on a mission together. Obi-Wan has an idea how to keep their cover and avert suspicion when something goes wrong.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 425
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	A Nice Place to Visit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yujacheong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/gifts).



Kaddak had never been the kind of location that was high on Anakin's wishlist of places to visit. 

He really does have a list, too, at least in his head - sometimes he thinks about it as he's lying in bed trying to sleep at night, or when he's tuning out of one of Obi-Wan's little talks about balance or concentration or reasons he should keep his cool instead of acting first and thinking later. Most of the places on the list don't involve pilgrimages or archaeology or sites of great historical importance to the Jedi Order, and they don't involve seas composed entirely of sand, or battalions of Separatist droid armies. 

They mostly involve cities, people, things to do, excitement. Sure, Kaddak has cities, and people, and things to do, and he can't say the visit lacked excitement, but he'd never wanted to go there and he doesn't have any particular ambitions to go back. Honestly, since they got home, he's been trying not to think about it at all. But all he can do as he lies awake in bed right now, when he'd usually close his eyes and wander the galaxy inside his head like he's some rich traveller and not a Jedi Knight, is hit his mental hyperdrive and wind up back on Kaddak. He guesses it'll take a while until that's not true anymore. 

The mission was simple: head to Kaddak, move into the Sliver, tail the gangs, and figure out who was supplying arms to the Separatists in the sector. It was the kind of operation that shouldn't even have required two Jedi but, there they were, two full-fledged Jedi, not a padawan in sight, sitting in a bar spying on small-time arms dealers in the Outer Rim instead of leading Republic armies. Anakin couldn't say that he actually minded too much, though: it had been weeks since he'd even seen his old master and months since they'd really worked together. If he hadn't known better, he might have said Master Yoda had assigned them together on purpose, just so they could catch up. 

They'd been tailing the Torc gang for several days. They worked out of a bar on level sixty-three, and so the two of them had been making themselves at home there in the evenings, playing cards, drinking, chatting with the locals, Anakin risking the occasional mind trick when information proved harder to tease out than they liked. They had their eye on a guy with shiny white hair who called himself Opal, not the boss of the gang but maybe some kind of high-up lieutenant. He was there that night. Anakin's not sure if the smile he remembers as he glanced in his direction is a memory or just something he invented after the fact, but he guesses it fits the situation either way. 

He remembers that Obi-Wan went to get drinks at the bar. He remembers losing sight of him, just for a minute, hoping that didn't mean something, but then there he was again. And he'd like to say he remembers thinking there was something wrong, but the truth is that he didn't. Obi-Wan looked like Obi-Wan. The neutral-to-bored expression on his face hadn't changed and there was no disturbance in the Force, or maybe Anakin had just tuned out from the possibility of dangers in their oh-so-standard mission to the point where he just didn't feel it. 

Then Obi-Wan set two drinks down on the table in the low light, in the faint intermittent neon flashes of the signs outside, and he slid into the booth beside him instead of taking the seat opposite. He leaned closer. He leaned in right by Anakin's ear, until his beard was almost tickling his jaw. That was when he knew something was wrong. 

"They suspect," Obi-Wan murmured, so close that his voice made Anakin shiver. Anakin's hand twitched toward the lightsaber hidden inside his extremely non-Jedi jacket but Obi-Wan caught his hand to stop him. His fingers were hot against Anakin's wrist.

"I'm afraid we'll need to persuade them we're not Republic spies," he said. 

Anakin raised his brows. "What did you have in mind?" he asked.

After a moment's pause, a pause he should have understood but absolutely didn't, Obi-Wan pressed Anakin's hand back down against Anakin's own thigh. Obi-Wan's hand slipped higher, away from the back of his, up higher. His fingertips found the inseam of his definitely not Jedi-issue pants and trailed up higher still. Anakin's brows rose. Anakin's eyes widened. His pulse quickened.

"Try not to look so surprised," Obi-Wan told him, still leaning close. "Unless you want us to fight our way out of here, of course, risking civilian lives in the process, and report to Master Yoda that the mission was a failure."

Anakin swallowed. Obi-Wan's mouth was so close to his neck that he could almost feel his lips against his skin. His beard still tickled. He shivered again. 

He was pretty confident that they could fight their way out of the bar, escape the Sliver and leave Kaddak without casualties. He was pretty sure they could find the information they needed some other way instead of questioning lowlife Kaddak gang members in a bar almost worse than a Tatooine cantina. But then Obi-Wan's mouth pressed hot against his neck, Obi-Wan's mouth pressed against his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth. Obi-Wan's fingers tangled in his hair and eased his head back, eased his chin up, exposed his throat so he could suck there, teeth scraping, and he thought okay, maybe this was a good plan after all. Maybe this was the only plan. Maybe, just this once, Obi-Wan knew best. 

They left the bar together. "They're keeping an eye on us," Obi-Wan told him, his voice low as they moved through the level, down the corridors of the Sliver that were really seemed more like wide, covered streets. Obi-Wan settled one hand at the small of Anakin's back and told him, "We'll need to be _convincing_ , Anakin."

Anakin would have thought he was teasing but he meant it, he could see that when he looked at him in the pink-blue-purple light of the flickering neon signs. And, as they walked, he told himself Obi-Wan would have never teased him about that. Everyone knew that Jedi padawans usually developed crushes on their masters - it was just that Anakin had never really grown out of his, not all the way, not even now that they were more like equals and he had a padawan of his own. If it hadn't been for the fact Obi-Wan was so close to him, so close he could smell the non-Temple shampoo he'd picked up on Corellia, so close he could feel his hand brush his thigh as they walked, he might have wished Ahsoka had been there instead of him. If it hadn't been for the guilty burn of excitement in his gut, he might have preferred fighting his way out with her to whatever this turned out to be.

Obi-Wan pulled him into an alley on their way where they were going, pressed him to the wall and kissed his neck while Anakin tried to figure out where he was meant to put his hands - he settled for the middle of his back, where he could feel how quickly his old master's breath was coming. Obi-Wan leaned back against a dimly-lit doorway and he pulled him in, tucked his hands under Anakin's jacket, ran them down and squeezed at his backside while Anakin braced himself against the door, pulse racing. When they got back to the boarding house where they'd been staying, Anakin was already half hard inside his too-tight pants from what little they'd done. When they got back to the room, when the door was closed and the lights were on, his face was hot and his cock was hard and Obi-Wan's hair was out of place. Knowing his hands had done that to him made him bite his lip to keep from saying something he'd regret.

He thought maybe it would stop then, once they were behind closed doors, but it didn't. Obi-Wan took off his coat then pushed the jacket from Anakin's shoulders and let it drop down to the floor. He took off his shirt, so Anakin followed suit. In the stark white light, he could see every scar on Obi-Wan's skin. He'd always wanted to touch them, so he did. Obi-Wan let him.

Anakin remembers pushing him down onto the bed, still halfway dressed, only bare to the waist. He remembers Obi-Wan's legs slung over his hips, his rubber-soled knee boots that were so unlike his Jedi ones pressed up to the back of his calves, his fingers in his hair. He remembers the press of Obi-Wan's erection there against his hip and thinking _this was Obi-Wan's plan_. He remembers thinking, _we didn't have to do this_. He remembers thinking, _maybe that means he wants this, too_. He thought a lot of things.

They shifted, pushed and pulled, gasped, laughed, got their boots off, got their pants off, and then lay back down on one of the room's surprisingly spacious twin beds - Obi-Wan had been sleeping in that one, so maybe it almost made sense when he stretched out on his back, his head against the pillow. Anakin propped himself up on his forearms, looking down at Obi-Wan's familiar face though his cheeks were flushed in an unfamiliar way. When he kissed him, Obi-Wan didn't object. He pulled his knees up to frame Anakin's hips. His fingertips followed the line of Anakin's spine, blunt nails raking lightly, almost like he really wanted it. _Almost_ like he really wanted it. 

Anakin was already inside him, balls-deep and breathless, naked, hands and knees, both slippery with the oil he used primarily to keep his mechanical hand seizing up and not for sex, when he noticed the flecks of dried blood behind Obi-Wan's left ear. He remembered a jab in the back of his own neck, like an insect bite - probably nothing, he'd thought at the time, though he knows now he should have known better. In that moment, he felt almost as sick as he felt giddy from the heat of him, from the sounds he made, from the way his hole pulled tight around him as he shoved in deep. Anakin suspected he knew what it meant but in case he was right, he knew he couldn't risk asking. 

Forty standard hours later, reinforcements arrived; they swooped in and cleared out the Torc before they could do whatever it was they'd been planning that turned out to be much more than an arms deal with the Separatists. Obi-Wan and Anakin left Kaddak, and the med droids on the carrier removed different things from each of them. Two days after that, back in the Temple, he had to read Obi-Wan's official report to understand what really happened: there'd been a bug inside Obi-Wan, hooked into his visual and auditory processes; there'd been a tiny charge in Anakin, by the base of his skull, to be blown immediately if Obi-Wan either explained the situation to him or else failed to entertain. He'd been instructed to have sex with him or watch him die, but he'd been so very convincing. 

And now, eight days since they got back to Coruscant, he lies awake and tries to think of all the places that he'd like to go that aren't likely to result in death, or near-death, or bombs attached to his cervical spine. He tries to think of all the places in the galaxy where Obi-Wan would never find him if he ran there. But he ends up back inside the Sliver, in a boarding house, in a bed they shared because they didn't have a choice. Anakin would have chosen it. He wishes he could say the same for Obi-Wan. 

He hears the door to his quarters open. He hears the door to his bedroom open. He reaches for his lightsaber, ignites it, and the bright blue glow lights Obi-Wan's figure in the doorway. He can see well enough to know he's barefoot, wearing the loose clothes he usually sleeps in. His hair's a mess. He must have been trying to sleep, too.

"Do you usually greet visitors with a lightsaber?" Obi-Wan asks. 

"Visitors usually knock." The blade vanishes with the flick of a switch but the blinds aren't drawn; he can still see Obi-Wan's face, even though he half wishes he couldn't, in the lights of the city outside his window. "Visitors usually wait until morning."

"This couldn't wait."

"Do we have orders?"

"No."

"Then what?"

Obi-Wan raises one hand. He taps his neck with two fingers, just behind his ear, and Anakin wonders for a second if it left a scar. Then he wonders what he means. 

"I don't want you to think I deliberately misled you, Anakin," he says. 

"You did it save my life."

"I'm sure you know there were other ways I could have done that."

"They would have been riskier."

"Yes. But I'm not convinced that was my reasoning."

Anakin frowns. He sits back against the headboard. "Then what was it?" he asks. 

"You never did grow out of your interest in me, Anakin." Obi-Wan smiles, the expression on his face at an infuriating mid-point between fond and wry. "I honestly believed you would."

"What does that have to do with it?"

The fondness exits Obi-Wan's smile and leaves it wry. "It seems I grew into mine for you," he says. "I'm afraid I might have allowed that to color my judgement. I'm sorry, Anakin." 

Anakin feels a smile of his own start to spread. It's not wry - it's incredulous, not wry, and he's frowning as well because he really can't help it. He stands, and he goes across the room, and there's a second when he thinks Obi-Wan might slip back out of the door before he gets there but he doesn't move, at least not toward the door. When he moves, Obi-Wan meets him in a kiss though Anakin knows they both know they shouldn't. 

Anakin closes the door. When he pushes Obi-Wan down onto his bed, he's not thinking about forty hours in a boarding house, make-believing that Obi-Wan wanted it when he went down on his knees and sucked him, or when he returned the favor. When Obi-Wan rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips, when he pulls off his shirt, he's not thinking about washing the come off each other's skin under the old-fashioned water shower in the 'fresher, or how Obi-Wan gasped and spread his knees and pushed back against Anakin's fingers as Anakin oiled his hole again for another round. He's not thinking about sex they had because they had to. He's thinking about the flustered look on Obi-Wan's face now he's chosen this, too.

Maybe all this is is an apology but if that's true, he'll make the most of it then work on convincing him of so much more. After all, Chancellor Palpatine says connections only make them stronger; maybe the Jedi think otherwise, but Anakin knows what he believes.

And maybe he's not in a hurry to head back to Kaddak. But maybe it's not so bad after all.


End file.
